Page 12 of Ready Or Not

I lick my lips. I can still taste her pussy.

Stalking down the hall, I head directly to the room where I saw her light on. Sure enough, when I crack the door open, Rachel’s there in bed. She’s curled up, with her wrists tucked under her chin, snoring lightly. Her pretty little lips are parted, and I see the swell of her hips under the sheet.

My mouth waters.

I should see how much I can do to her while she’s asleep.

I force myself to pause. Not until I’m done snooping. I need to know more about her so I can…motivate her to do what I want. This is just the beginning, and I won’t fuck it up by not preparing correctly. As Manson likes to get all over my ass for.

I check the room opposite the bedroom. Most of it is storage for miscellaneous items. When I check the last bedroom and flip on the light, I suck in a breath.

There are skulls. Hundreds of them. All over tables, on shelves, and in display cases.

A strange feeling twists my gut. I look over all those dead animals, and the greed of humanity hits me.

They’d rob an animal of its life just for this? Trophies?

Rage filters over my vision.

No animal deserves this.

My phone buzzes again. I rip it out of my pocket.

Manson: Where you at, sis?

I almost throw my phone at the wall. He knows I hate it when he calls me that. Instead, I stomp out of the house, blindly typing.

Me: Fuck off.

Normally, I wouldn’t give him such ammo. He latches onto any weakness like a bloodhound, but when I’m mad, I can’t stop.

Manson: Why you in such a bad mood?

I can practically hear his smirk.

Manson: Did stalking your prey not get your jollies off?

I grip my phone so hard my fingers hurt and throw it violently into the saddle bags. Of course Manson knows I’m here. I forgot to check my bike for trackers before I left. Not only is my step-brother obsessive about me, he’s obsessive about the people I fuck. “Obsessive,” meaning he usually kills them and leaves the bodies in my cornfield. The killing doesn’t bother me. I never stick around for longer than a fuck, but it’s the principle of it.Manson thinks he’s in charge of my life, and he makes me clean up his messes.

Arrogant prick. I’d put him at the top of my list to kill, but that would only go to his head.

I suck in a deep breath and start the bike. I wasn’t expecting the animals. I shouldn’t be disappointed because I shouldn’t have gotten interested in the first place. I need to get myself back together so Manson doesn’t rip me to shreds. I snatch up my phone.

Me: Kill this one, too, I don’t care.

Then I turn my phone off and peel away from the curb.

5

I Don’t Care - Fall Out Boy

I stare at the text on my phone.

Riley never talks like this. In fact, she’s never openly acknowledged that I kill her one-night stands. She just buries them in her fields and is extra salty at me for the next few days.

What’s gotten into her?

A slow scowl creeps across my face. Is she trying to keep this one alive? That could be the only reason she’s giving me permission—to try and throw me off the scent.